Playing at Being an Adult IV
After talking with the world’s laziest blogger today, something he said really stuck with me - that the realisation and reminders of his own adulthood left him feeling slightly but pervasively uncomfortable, in a way that was impossible to explain. I suspect I have different reasons, but I also find adulthood disagreeable, particularly today as I find myself in the throes of yet another existential crisis.
I miss being a child, I miss the lack of responsibility, I miss the stakes being so low, I miss having so many friends, I miss those friends not all being in serious long-term relationships and not having as much time for me anymore, I miss my body not feeling the effects of a desk job, I miss the naïveté of childhood romance, I miss having the time to play 5 hours of video games a day, I miss not framing my entire life through the lens of self-improvement, I miss not being so cynical about everything all the time.
And perhaps most of all, I regret taking all of it for granted so much, although equally I know that the only useful thing I can do with that regret is to not take the present moment for granted, before things inevitably get worse. It is hard to find much good to say about being an adult though.